In Medias Res
by secretsofgray
Summary: A nonlinear series about Korra, Bolin, and the chaos that is the two of them. Because starting in the middle is easier than the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

**This takes place…after episode five? Before? The Fireferrets are in the tournament and we have Tahno introduced. Other than that, screw continuity.**

_In Medias Res_

It was warm under the blanket, but the air outside was cold. Korra nuzzled deeper into the mattress and sighed the contented sigh of the not-quite-awake. It was a beautiful feeling, knowing that you wouldn't have to get out of bed right away, even if she still had her boots on and her pants were twisted around her legs _most_ uncomfortably, her left pant leg stuck to her calf with dried blood.

_Wait._

At the thought of last night – and, consequently, how she'd received the slash on her calf – Korra groaned. She hadn't been _that_ drunk – in fact, she hadn't even been drunk. Her drink had been spiked during the afterparty – sometime between arriving and having an almost ritual pissing match with Tahno and…

_Nngh._ It hurt to think. Korra distinctly remembered being kissed, and laughing, having a good time – a great time…being carried upstairs, slung over someone's shoulder like a sack of flour…

Korra sat up and glanced around. Not Tenzin's house – in fact, this was Mako's and Bolin's attic; she'd been sleeping in one of their beds. It took a moment for this to register – not only was she sleeping in Bolin's bed, but he was sleeping in his bed as well.

When this _did_ register, Korra was panicked, distressed, embarrassed, and nervous all at once through the sleepy haze– she most _certainly_ hadn't been that out of it – had she? What had she done? What – and then it clicked that not only was Korra fully clothed (boots and all) but it was _freezing. _A cursory glance out the window told her that it was snowing thickly, more like a blizzard than anything. Her breath made clouds in front of her and – she could see on the couch – it looked like Bolin had made an attempt to sleep on the sofa and had given up because it was so damned _cold._ There was no fire in the fireplace, which lead Korra to wonder where Mako was.

_Did he go home with Asami, or….?_

Korra shook her head. She didn't really care right now – it was too cold and too early to think about anything. She swung her legs over and bent down to take off her boots, then examined the cut on her leg. Superficial, could have been anything – getting scraped on a nail, a tigerdog, a knife. She could heal it quickly – she used the condensation on the window because everything else was ice.

Firebending coaxed the dead embers in the fireplace to life. She might have overdone it, as the sound seemed to wake up Pabu. He poked his head from under the covers, sneezed, and, apparently disgusted with the cold, dove back under them.

Bolin shifted, and Korra's shoulders tensed. He was awake – she could feel his eyes on her back. Korra swallowed thickly and busied herself with re-lacing her boots. You'd think that after all the time she spent with him – practicing and otherwise – she'd be able to keep her cool

_Apparently not._

"You started the fire?" he asked blearily, yawning. As if there was any other firebender here.

Korra didn't turn around when she said, "Yeah. Thanks for looking out for me last night – what the hell happened?"

She did turn around when he answered. "Dunno – lotsa people had spiked drinks – that would be Tahno being an ass for you - but you also got into the firewhiskey, so jury's out." He grinned. His hands were behind his head, covers halfway up to his chest. The wifebeater he wore revealed the thick muscles of his chest and arms; it contrasted sharply with the sleepy babyface. "Sorry if this is awkward, but you know," he waved his hand, "Body heat. I would've taken you home," he went on, "But the ferry's not running 'cause of the weather."

"It's alright. Tenzin will understand," Korra said without much conviction. He could pretend to be sorry that the ferry was out and she could pretend to not feel awkward. A screwed up system, but a system nonetheless.

She sat there for a minute as sleep began to hit her, just looking around the attic. There was a ladder leading to the downstairs, some barbells in a corner, a wooden dresser and a nightstand. Miscellaneous paraphernalia were strewn about in typical Bolin fashion; it was a stark contrast to Tenzin's Spartan way of living.

"Uhh, Korra?" Bolin said tentatively, "Do you mind? It's sort of really early, and cold even with the fire, and the covers are all," he cleared his throat, "Open."

"Mhm," Korra mumbled, tired. No sooner had she spoken than Bolin reached out an arm and, grabbing the corner of the blanket, more or less sealed her fate (or, rather, decied for her that she would not be getting up anytime soon) even though that's exactly what she had been making to do.

Something was niggling at the back of Korra's mind. It was a half-memory, like a dream. _Or a drugged out night. _"Did you get in a fight at the party?" she asked him. She lay on her back, arms above her head as she contemplated the ceiling.

Bolin cleared his throat, ears turning red. "Aw, you remember_ that_? Out of everything?"

"Hardly. C'mon, tell me." She elbowed him in the side.

"Ow! Watch it , woman – okay, okay I'll tell – so, Hasook shows up, drunk as hell, looking for Mako – he finds out that you replaced him, right, so he's pissed- he started throwing punches but he's no match for me. I kind of won in the first ten seconds." His grin was wide enough to split his face.

Korra chuckled to herself. "Way to go, Bolin."

Bolin smiled. "Man, you're really out of it. Go back to sleep, Korra."

Korra was about to protest – she most certainly was _not_ out of it – but her protests were interrupted by a yawn, and a blink, and the blink turned into a dream.

.

The next time Korra awoke, the air around her was warm and Bolin's arm was slung around her middle and he was _warm._

She yawned and shifted, less groggy and more well-rested than before but still in yesterday's clothes. She was still in her boots – hadn't she already taken those off?

She wriggled out from under his arm and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, unlacing them. Before long Bolin shifted and Korra could feel his eyes on her. When she got her boots of and made to stand, he hooked an arm around her waist. She glanced back at him, eyebrow nocked. "Five more minutes," he mumbled blearily, giving a gentle tug.

Korra's face turned red but she complied because really she didn't have a reason _not_ to. She slid back under the blanket and he kept his arm around her, drawing her back up against his chest. "Five minutes," he mumbled again, then, laying his head down, fell back asleep.

Korra smiled to herself and dozed to the sound of his easy breathing, listening to the storm outside.

**Note: In Medias Res literally translates as 'into the middle of things.'**

**Thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Remember when I said nonlinear? Yeaaah, this is where that comes in. The chapter after this will explain the backstory. **

**Because conventional timelines are for conventional people.**

**.**

He unexpectedly sees Korra some six months later. She's walking down the main street in no rush; it's almost like a tourist, _almost_, except she looks like she knows where she's going.

She sees Bolin coming out of the corner of her eye and she knows what's going to happen but she lets it happen anyway. It's no surprise when strong arms wrap around her in a rib-cracking grip, but when she's picked up and spun around she _is_ startled, though she shouldn't be. This is Bolin; excitable, over-the-top, puppy-like Bolin.

When he puts her down he's staring at her, hands on her shoulders like he has to touch her to make sure she's real. "You're back," he says stupidly.

Korra nods. "Yeah. For good this time."

He lets her words wash over him, then hugs her again, pulling her to his chest because he's convinced there's no place safer. "I _missed_ you," he whispers fiercely. He knows he's probably causing a scene but he doesn't care; Korra is _back_ and _here_, and maybe a little bit of a scene is called for.

Her arms go around him this time, and he's reminded of another time when things weren't so complicated. "I missed you too," she says into his shirt. They're there for a minute, but the moment is killed when Korra's stomach rumbles loudly. She pulls away and laughs. "I _just_ got back. Wanna go get some food?"

Bolin grins. The hurt from the past six months hasn't really caught up to him yet. He knows that when it does, it'll be ugly, but right now he pays it no heed. "Yeah. C'mon, I know a place."

And together they walk, a probending boy from the streets and the Avatar. But to everyone else they're just another boy and girl.

.

.

Tenzin throws a welcome-home party for Korra, and Bolin and Mako are invited. Bolin feels awkward in his suit but he's assured by Mako and Asami that that's how it's supposed to be worn. Still, he loosens the collar and tie and 'accidentally' leaves the jacket on the ferry. He arrives at the party in a black button-down shirt with a deep red tie and slick black pants over leather boots because _no,_ he was not wearing dress shoes, _thankyouverymuch._

The first thing Bolin does when he sees Korra is panic, (because _really,_ when girls get dressed up and gorgeous it only serves as intimidating) and the second thing is hug her. It's a good hug, an earthbender hug, strong and safe. He's happy to see her again – so's Mako, even though he's under the pretense that he's just happy to have her back on the team again. Korra grins and hugs them both, an arm around each of them as she herds them to the table of special moonshine.

"To us." She raises her glass and quickly downs the liquid.

"To us," Bolin and Mako echo, following her movements. The alcohol is different from anything Bolin's ever tasted – its strong and old – and he's not eager for seconds.

And then the stories begin – about how she and Naga encountered a wild mongoose-dragon and what the crazy monk who mentored her was like, the gorgeous views and terrible weather. The crowd is enthralled, and asks questions, and Ikki and Jinora and Meelo show off their presents that Korra got for them.

Somehow, Bolin and Korra wind up alone and Bolin finds himself asking if they could go somewhere private to talk. The roof is as good a choice as any and after a minute Korra says quietly, "How did you know?"

Bolin blinks at her. She's in a dress, a mix of traditional Water Tribe and Western style, with white gloves accenting the deep blues. He can't help but stare. "Know what?" He sits down, letting his feet dangle over the edge so his staring isn't _too_ obvious. Below him is a koi pond and a rock garden, and to his left he can see the bending arena. It's a pretty view if not a sharp contrast.

"About what happens when you unlock the chakras." She grimaces, no doubt remembering their discussion before this happened.

"Oh. That." He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, looking down, old wounds resurfacing. "Well – my parents did that. Y'know, the whole chakra-thing – and…it got them killed. They weren't afraid to die, and that manifested itself as not fighting back when a firebender attacked them." He was six, barely old enough to remember, but this he knows for a fact. He closes his eyes and can see the placid face of his mother, the stern face of his father, the way they didn't scream when the firebender killed them. "Because they gave up everything worldly...Mako and me weren't reason enough for them to fight." He sighs and looks at her, trying to get a feel for what she's thinking…

And then she's tackle-hugging him, nearly knocking him over. He catches himself on one hand at the last second. "I'm sorry," she says, and he knows she's not talking about his parents. "I'm _sorry._" Her arms are in a tight hold around his neck and he hugs her back, pulling her to his chest.

He's making soothing noises and rubbing her back, unable to put how much he missed her into words. "It's alright," he croons. Suddenly, the fear that he'd been trying to ignore grips him right in the pit of his stomach. "You didn't…"

"I didn't." The confirmation sends a warm thrill through him. "I – I why would _anyone_ do that?"

"People do crazy things to get stronger."

Korra grimaces. "That's not my kind of crazy."

He chuckles to himself. "What _is_ your kind of crazy?"

She gives him a sidelong look. "The kind you find in Republic city." She nudges him with her elbow. "Namely the kind that comes from having to rescue your ass."

"Hey!" He nudges her back with his shoulder good-naturedly. "That was one time!" When she nudges him back, he tries to dodge but overbalances and nearly falls off the roof; Korra grabs the collar of his suit just in time and pulls him back.

Korra's laugh rings out in the thin air. "Case in point. Oh!" she exhales in frustration. "I got you something, too – dammit, I left it in my room –" she cuts herself off and laughs at herself. "Can't believe I forgot."

Bolin's touched by the sentiment. He can't remember the last time someone who wasn't his brother or a fan got him a present for no reason other than they wanted to. His smile is more than a little lopsided. "You really are one of a kind, you know that?"

Maybe it's the way he's looking at her, maybe it's something else, but Korra bites her lip and suddenly finds it difficult to look him in the eye.

When he kisses her, she's knows she shouldn't be surprised. When he pulls away he stands and offers her his arm. She's still reeling from the taste of him – the licorice taste of the moonshine and something else – and she's not really sure how to react.

"C'mon," he says good naturedly, still half-grinning. "They're probably missing you at the party."

She swallows. She feels uncharacteristically girlish all of a sudden and it's all because of him. Korra isn't sure if she likes it or not, but the thrill going through her isn't unpleasant. "You're probably right," she says, taking his arm. He helps her down from the roof – she is in a dress, after all – and escorts her back to the party.

"Bolin?" she asks tentatively as they make their way back. They were friends, but not just-friends, and Korra is unsure where they stand.

He looks down at her and grins. "Yeah?"

All the words that Korra wants to say – all the questions and accusations and _what the hells?_ Suddenly seem inappropriate, uncalled for, unnecessary. She swallows them and instead says, "I'm glad to be back."

He laughs. "Glad to have you back, Korra."

.


End file.
